


quite an ill-tempered fellow, that poseidon

by tomorrowisforeverallours



Category: The Poseidon Adventure (1972)
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Natural Disasters, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 09:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16870609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrowisforeverallours/pseuds/tomorrowisforeverallours
Summary: Vignettes of the fallen.





	quite an ill-tempered fellow, that poseidon

**Author's Note:**

> am i writing drabbles for a disaster film from 1972 instead of writing an essay? 
> 
> ...yes.

“The passengers are your first priority,” they had told him. “Attend to anyone who flags you down.” 

But how was he to attend to an entire ballroom of screaming, drowning people?

They wouldn’t come. He couldn’t help them. But he sure as hell could help the Reverend, those kids, the Rosens, and the few others willing to risk it. This was his  _ job, _ and he had never been one to shirk his duties.

He would see them saved. He swore it. 

In the brief moment before he was engulfed by roiling water, he apologized for going back on his word. 

* * *

 

She could  _ do  _ it and the Reverend wouldn’t let her. Typical young man. Unmarried, too. 

When there was no tug, she went after him, feeling like a mermaid gliding effortlessly through the water, her high-school physique no longer a memory. For a few moments, the fat woman could be the savior. It was an ice-cold victory, because then there was the pain and the shaking and the Reverend’s despairing eyes. 

Give this to Manny, she whispered, folding the necklace into his hand. _Chai._ For our grandson. For life. 

She hadn’t gotten to say she loved him again. But he knew. 

* * *

 

She was going to  _ kill _ him for not letting them fly. 

This was worse than anything she had seen on the street. So many lifeless bodies, burned and drowned and crushed. No one had laid a hand on them. But she stood up and took off her gown and kept going because they had no other choice and she hadn’t earned a vacation just to never even take it. 

And he was there the whole way. God, she hated him, but she loved him. Couldn’t live without him. 

The last thing she saw as she fell was his horrified face. 

* * *

 

All this pain. All this suffering. All this death. 

How could this be His will? 

The steam burns, but it is nothing compared to the agony of watching those people die. Damn them for not taking a chance.  _ Goddamn _ them for giving up. 

But here, now, he understands. There’s no way he can swing back; he simply has nothing left. Rogo will get them through. He has to. It can't have been for nothing. 

His fingers slip and he lets them. A fiery Hell awaits him, but it soothes his stinging hands, his aching heart. 

_ Did I do well, Father?  _


End file.
